The General and The Dragon
by haruharu
Summary: All Cloud wanted was to spend his eternity in solitude. But all that changed the day he met a boy with silver hair. Now he's sucked into a dawning War and the destiny of its Hero. Come on, what did you expect when you made bedroom eyes with a dragon?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **FFVII fics have been taking on a singularity of their own lately, huh? So I decided to play around in the cannon _**within**_ the cannon. This fic will technically be following the Crisis Core storyline while diving into it's own. The only main tweak being that Cloud is a Dragon. That's a pretty big tweak actually...But unfortunately Cloud will be taking on an almost 'antagonistic' role in this story. What can I say; you'll just have to read it.

**NEEDS BETAS! **Please...

**Pairing: **Sephiroth/Cloud + Genesis/Cloud

**Rating: **M

* * *

**Synopsis: **All Cloud wanted was to spend his eternity in solitude. But all that changed the day he met a boy with silver hair. Now he's sucked into a dawning War and the destiny of its Hero. Come on, what did you expect when you make bedroom eyes with a dragon?

* * *

**The General and the Dragon **

**Chapter 1**

By: haruharu

* * *

_o.o.o_

"_Hark and behold, the Red Dragon! With teeth like knives, claws that render, and the cavern of its mouth a portal to hell, the Great Red is a demon indeed. What knight so bold could challenge the ternary of the Dragon? Could it be the innocence of a child?" [The Red Dragon]_

_o.o.o__  
_

_L__ong ago there was a name, a place, and a person._

_A planet fractured in two by ranging conflict and graceful bliss._

_An epic tale of sword vs. sorcery, religion vs. rebellion, and the legend._

_The legend of a man known not by name, but by heart. A man, who sat upon a thrown of his own kindred, yet forsook everything to resolve a war he was innocent of._

_You don't believe me?_

_I suppose it would be easier to forget. The years of idle passing always leave dust on the foundations of the past. Likewise, the molding of time had left its pages yellow and unreadable._

_Those that claimed witness to the past had followed suit with the aging of history. The memories of what was once fact grew grey and wrinkled as it was mumbled from generation to generation, eventually lost from chronology's tome._

_But I know what happened. I was there._

_And unlike humanity's short-term memory, and even shorter life span, I remember the colors of the past as vibrant and crisp as it was first seen. They did not fade over time as did much of their other spectators, but were planted in my memory as a gravestone for all that I had lost._

_A memorial that marked my kindred's justified anger toward humanity and their eventual destruction because of it._

_However this is the story of the Ancients. Not my own._

_My story starts a century later, when I met a boy with silver hair..._

* * *

_o.o.o_

He felt the wind change.

His kindred are creatures of feeling; able to sense the slightest change in the universe. And like his kindred he was awoke by its portentous shake. It was like a blast of radiant energy, emerging and diverging from a sole source and spreading through the astrospace like ripples to the endless sea. He had never felt such cataclysmic power before; his keen senses on fire screaming to know it's genesis.

With steps like knives, the slow emerging slither of decades of sedentary movement, he forced his muscles to convex for the first few moments since the 3rd Arc. His first breaths were hoarse, quickly gulping at the surrounding sand and limestone to ignite the _Thorax Ahstos _within his gut. He could smell the gas as it traveled up his vertebrae and through the esophagus; desperately trying to force the spark that would light the furnace of his power.

Within moments He realized the horror of his proximity. He was closed in, his surrounding area no larger than his girth. With the gas mounting and no filter to cycle oxygen, he realized his _sanctuary_ would be his grave.

The Co2 filled his nostrils with another shaky breath. Still too weak to move, his only chance was to light the gas before he poisoned himself. Similar to the lessor races, his kindred could not breathe in the poison gases for long before the membrane would weaken.

Thrashing with renewed effort, he forced the weight of his mass against the closest wall. The jagged surface didn't give but shook enough to weaken it's foundation. Again he threw his weight at the wall in hope that the outer rock would crumble. With what little strength he could summon he struck out with the back of his skull. The resulting pain was silence to the harmony of clean oxygen as it filled his nostrils. He took helpful gulps of chemical atmosphere as his sensors collected the air particles, stripping the life-giving nutrients, and exhaling Co2. Slowly he felt his body relax, the steady ability to breathe again as he reset his concentration on the _Thorax Ahstos. _

He faintly suppressed his nervous system so that his cerebral matter would be forcibly induced into a trance. From there he could tap into the restricted stores of Magick left within his veins. His journey downward into his _Exodus Anima _led to an discovery he wasn't prepared for. His skeleton had been greatly depleted, and what little Magick remained was slowly diminishing. He knew immediately that more than a century had passed since the 3rd Arc, but such momentary laps of hibernation were common among his kindred. To be this weakened meant something far worse than a catnap had accrued. He tried to deepen his trance and search the memories as to why, but a cloud of haze and a suppressed cerebral ache surfaced instead.

He roared in depredation. How could this have happened!

Why did he not have a single memory beyond his obvious departure from the 3rd Arc? For that matter, why now? Why was he summoned to consciousness a century later and by an anatomic eruption of energy no less? What could have had such power as to awaken a Red Dragon!

With his rage at the back of his maw, he felt the familiar warmth of fire as he thundered his anger throughout the cavern. A line of blaze followed, fast and strong, as it illuminated the corridor. The inferno was bright enough to chase away the shadows of an adjoining cavern before erupting against the stone stalagmites.

Renewed power washed over his hide as he hoisted above his weight for the first time in decades. The muscles in his forelegs clenched as he tucked his hindquarters under himself to easier situate his large mass in the small catacomb. Once in a sitting position, albeit the trunk of his neck hung low from the ceiling, he assessed his surroundings. Like a newborn wyrmling he inspected every crack and crevasse with fervor, taking new inquisition to whatever shape or shadow caught in his peripherals.

With his pilot ablaze, he could see the thermals radiate between the stone surfaces. Where most heat culminated and most likely where the exit would be. Although his strength was slowly returning, he was in no condition to engage in combat if the need arisen. The Great Red was no force to be reckoned with, yet in his weakened state he would barely be a match for a Zolom. How depressing.

The cavern he had awoken in was nothing more than a man-made hole carved into the side of a mountain. The glimpses of patterns etched into stone gave that much away. Deciding to venture farther into the dark grotto, he pushed his sinewy girth up onto all fours and took the first precarious steps on his regained balance.

Talons ripped along the rocky terrain of the cave as he clawed upward into the next corridor. The rough scales of his outer hide splintered against the flagstones as he squeezed past the threshold. Whatever The Red had expected from his unsuspected awakening, that was not what he found when he entered the great hall of the adjoining cavern.

It was a temple, or so he would have presumed.

Etched-in gold coated the walls in interact patterns, while several golden columns held up the ample ceiling. A quick glance up determined the depth of the vaulted cavern, and he was in no condition to attempt flight. The stone floor was flooded with golden coins and gems of every color. A horde worthy of any Dragon, yet he could not place it's significance. The coppery fume of atmosphere held no signs of prior creatures habitat, and therefore open territory. The Red was left guessing as to why such a place existed; surely it wasn't attended for him? He tried to place the image in his psyche but came up short again, save a skull-splitting headache.

The Red walked farther into the temple, the golden treasure beneath his claws warm and comfortable as he passed. Upon closer inspection, the hieroglyphics melded together depicting an image reminiscent of the past. Hard lines scratched in the forms of Dragons were shown glorified by a lower race. As he scanned the images turned darker portraying battles and wars of the past. Again, The Red tried to search his mind for the significance of the imagery, but to no avail. Random flashes of lands laid waste and faceless soldiers were all he could recall.

'_What are these memories...'_

The Red growled in frustration and shook off the images.

'_Perhaps the lifestream…'_

The lifestream was the lifeblood of the universe. The astral strings that tie all organic matter together. Much like how the Great Wing hears the sonic vibrations in the earth, his kindred could hear the melodic hymns of the lifestream as it sang through the Multiverse.

Suppressing it's cerebrum again, The Red concentrated on lowering his conscious and heightening his senses. Able to feel each minute particle in the spectral atmosphere, he sharpened until he could detect the subtle strings of the lifestream as it settled over the aged temple.

'_What's this––?'_

There was a strange smell on the air. Something unnatural. Something that didn't belong. The smell intertwined and sang with the lifestream like an awkward note in an otherwise flawless symphony. The Red tried to separate the essence away from the lifestream's cords, but to no avail. It was as if the unnatural conundrum was a part of the lifestream––a realization that shook the creature.

'_How could an artificial substance splice and assimilate with Gaia's very lifeblood?'_

Deciding to investigate the strange substance, the Red followed the hollow strums of the awkward note until an estranged pattern could be visible.

'_It's elusive, but there is a slight break between the two forces. To follow the alien would mean uprooting the source of it's misdeeds.'_

The Red seethed its worn patience; black smoke seeping from its maw.

'_And that is not a battle I am equipped for.'_

The Red swallowed the surging fire and remained concentrated on following the lifestream outside his residence. If he could not confront its creator, than he could analyze and draw its skill.

'_Weeds that grow into the fabric of the lifestream must be cut clean before it takes root in the Multiverse. There is no excuse.' _

He supposed he should of found it ironic that his reawakening would be welcomed by the dark onslaught of change. Yet he would have never guessed such toxicity had eroded the universe thus far. Nothing short of Gaia's grand power could fabricate the lifestream ––a serious omen worth investigating indeed.

Following the hymn of the lifestream, The Red made his way through the cavern, noticing its depth far understated his original enrapture. The cave was much deeper and grander than he imagined, with many adjoining tunnels yet undiscovered. The temple it housed itself with followed the tunnels with golden columns and vaulted canopies carved in long forgotten words. He soon found that the cave itself told the story of the past. That it advocated battles, and triumphs over centuries in the making. The Red had given up on placing the glyphs, whatever symbols resonated with him were too benign to comprehend.

He did understand however, that whatever housed this temple had gone to extreme lengths in hiding its existence, and that was something the red could reconcile with.

The creature's internal thoughts were interrupted by the uprooted darkness that plunged into the blinding light of day. Without warning he had passed the threshold into the outside world. It was a mountain pass. Situated high in the peeks beyond the valley below. Mist and cloud formations besieged his view of the lower world, yet his sharpened vision could depict vast forests of green far along the landscape.

The air was thin as he took his first breaths of the chilled atmosphere. Very little could exist at such heights, and The Red had the inclination he was the sole organism in question. The smog from his nostrils was a welcomed warmth on the spiked frozen air. Although he could control his internal body temperature, his newly awakened state was still weak enough to produce sufficient heat to his complete mass. A handicap he was beginning to find annoying.

Gauging his height, he guessed three thousand feet or so, and hardly a perch for those of his race. Yet the passage of time had seeped stress into his muscles, and the unused tension had grown greatly over the centuries.

Rolling his quad muscles, The Red ignored the pain and worked on preparing for the flight ahead. The lifestream sung to him down in the valley below, and that was where he would follow. Unfolding his forelimbs and stretching his wings had been a pleasure he could not describe. His kind ruled the air, it was their kingdom, and they it's royalty. To spend so long grounded was a torture the very birds could not understand.

Deciding to take off at the run, The Red hunched low on it's hindquarters and drew back ready for the leap. Like a cat launching at its kill, he rocked back before thrusting into the air. The sense of free fall immediately besieged him before tucking his forearms and opening his wings. Then the sky was his.

Flight was an experience he couldn't explain. It was an exclusive force that soared with the select few and commanded the remaining masses. With fear his kindred conquered kingdoms with awe he enchanted generations. There were songs sang about the creatures of the wind. About their power, prestige and majesty. He was an example of this––of the perfect organism.

Descending in height, The Red increased speed and redirected himself into a dive. The landscape soared past his dropping form as he free fell into the growing landmass below. He could feel the surge of lifeforce with every length he inclined. The estranged smell beset his senses stronger and with more force the closer he drew. Whatever was leading him was driving his ferocity wild. His hide felt a flame when the ground was near in sight, the magnetism of the lifestream so powerful it weighed down on his judgment.

Before he'd realized, he was far too close. The Red fought against the pull, trying to gain height from the updrafts created by his repeated flapping, but the force was too strong to shake, the crash imitate beyond his control. He fell to earth.

The immediate collision was met with a resounding quake as the earth gave way to the creature's mighty weight. Trees, land, and rock were torn asunder as the great scar of his destruction was ripped from the flesh of Gaia. Not far from the point of his landing did four souls sway with its tremor.

* * *

o.o.o

"What was that?"

Three men dressed in black and armed with military weapons raced under the forest with vigor. The quake sounded again and they regrouped together to search their surroundings.

"Just what we need. First the kid and now this!"

"Calm down 226, its probably just some seismic interference."

"Should we investigate it?"

"Negative, we should continue our mission and capture the little brat."

The soldiers gave a collective "affirmative" beneath their darkened helmets and recommenced their search.

Far from the soldiers thermal gaze ran the quickened pace of a young boy. The aggressive environment scratching and cutting exposed flesh as he raced through the brier. His pursuers were only so far behind him, and every foot of distance he could put between them meant another minute of survival.

The quake had knocked him on his knees and disoriented him. Almost forgetting about the men chasing him, he looked beyond the horizon to the rising debris from whatever had caused the trembling.

"What––what is that?"

Without thinking the boy began sprinting in the direction of the scar. Whatever it was, he figured it was better than the alternative back at the labs. Feeling a sudden fear set in, the boy raced onward toward the source of the hairs standing in the back of his head.

The boy dogged limbs and undergrowth as he chased deeper into the brush. He knew his body had far expended his reserves, that shear adrenaline kept him going. He took note of upturned earth and fallen trees, wondering what could possibly have created such magnifying destruction in the blink of an eye.

The boy was forced to slow down as he drew closer. The air was riddled with scattered debris and what seemed to be thick smog of smoke and ash. The boy's mind raced with what could have done this, but his adolescent 10 years of life had only exposed him to so much, regardless of the numerous texts he was assigned during lessons. He had never been on the field though so everything was new to him today. He would have reconciled that frequent earthquakes were common if he didn't know any better. The very realization on how little he knew outside the labs weighed heavily on the boys heart.

'_And now what….'_

He needed to continue, to put more distance between he and his pursuers. He was so tired though; the toxic heat mixed with his already exhausted state was slowly corroding his sense of awareness. The comfort of sleep started to sound like a marry idea. But he couldn't lie down and die, he needed to survive, wasn't that the reason he escaped the labs?

'_But, I'm just so tired…'_

He stumbled a little more before his weight finally gave out under him. Covering his mouth from the relenting smog, he took quick breaths and forced himself to stand again. His bruised and cut up feet barely able to sustain his balance as he grabbed a near by branch to steady himself.

'_Just a little farther, please I need to run just a little farther…'_

By shear force of will, the boy strained his legs to move forward. The miasma around him was like a black fog, as toxic to the touch as it was to breathe. Exposed skin was stained black in it's wake. He felt his head lighten, the residual mako left in his body mixing terribly with the outward poison. It was a recipe for self-destruction, he knew. But he couldn't give up, not now when he was so close to the freedom he desired.

'_So close, just a little more…don't give up, just a little more, please––!'_

"There he is!"

'_No!' _

"Affirmative, 226, 385, Triforce formation––Swarm! Swarm!"

'_No! No––!'_

_

* * *

_

o.o.o

His first cognizant awareness was met with a burning intensity in the back of his mind. The Red roared in answer to the mounting pain. It wasn't the subtle throbbing of a physical wound, but the astral-mental kind that was blaring sirens and fueling renewed strength. It was here he knew it. The source of his discovery––the root, it was here.

With feral rage, The Great Red rose from its sputter to seek out the form of the planets enemy and eradicate it here and now. Strength be damned, no organism of the greater universe had the power to command his presence, and it certainly wasn't beginning now. No creature could control a Dragon, especially one such as he. Folding his wings back The Red pricked its ears to hear the faint sounds of creatures near by, humans he guessed, and most likely the source of his trouble.

'_Humans…such a pitiable race, and yet they have survived these centuries as well. How I will never understand when barely a flick of the wrist and they are destroyed.'_

A loud resounding cry awoke The Red from his internal thoughts. It was followed by the distinct sound of artillery fire and The Red reluctantly followed.

Humans. Lessor creatures. He wanted nothing to do with a race such as theirs, and yet The Red was left wondering if the surge of tainted lifeforce could have come from such mortals? He had known of them in the past, as foggy as his memory was he knew of humanity. His kindred knew of humanity. Of their destructive force, that alone was so weak and yet together could move mountains. Of their busy bodied existence––rummaging Gaia like rodents before their short-lived end. There's was a guilt his race would never escape, nor a fury that would never ebb.

The Red felt his stomach burn with the fires of his retribution. The very concept of facing the grotesque rituals of such a race put his instincts on edge. His careful patience worn thin at the thought of snapping their twisted bones, of roasting their soft flesh, of their blackened bodies as he readied them for swallowing.

The Red's predatory mind reawakened for the first hunt in centuries. By the time he came across the scene he almost craved the imminent massacre. What he saw stopped the bloodlust from rising.

It was a boy, young barely a wrymling by his standards, cowering against it's predators. They were beasts most likely, but were dressed in scaled armor of textile and helmets that covered their faces with eyes of red glass, and tubes extending from their mouths. The Red did not recognize these creatures. They looked humanoid almost, but he did not recall any humans to resemble as they were.

The Red considered stepping in for the young thing. The inevitable outcome was death regardless, and depending on which party, it mattered not who's life was snuffed out. The Red watched on as the child was forced from the ground into the armored claws of its attackers. He heard growled out words, and then the child was beaten some more. The child cried out for mercy but its assailants continued their onslaught. Finally, after the entertainment reduced to boredom, the Red stepped out from it's foliage covering.

"Such violence for such a small morsel…" His jaw did not move, but they heard him all the same.

"Such prey is hardly worth the effort."

The earth shook with every step as The Red drew up behind the cowering youth. The resulting panic was music to his ears as the armored creatures jumped back and recoiled from his mighty frame.

'_Such rodents…'_

The creatures said something; he cared not to understand as he drew back for the kill. Summoning his blaze he released a great breath of fire down on the squirming bodies, it's wave igniting the surrounding foliage. The years of sleep had upset his control on his breath weapons. What he had wanted to be a controlled fireball, was a broken dam of flames that licked the bodies of his foes clean to the bone. Their screaming terror as they drowned on his fire was nonetheless enjoyable. As the fires died, he said a silent prayer to Gaia for condemning its earth to such a fate as well.

Looking down upon the face of his quarry, The Red was taken back from what he saw. The child had silver hair. He knew of no such race that boasted such exotic features. And those eyes, a pure green like the solemn sea, looked up to him with fear, with awe.

* * *

o.o.o

**A/N: **Okay guys, that's it for chapter one. I hope you enjoyed it. I'm actually not to happy with it myself. It didn't come out how I wanted. Hopefully once I get a Beta I can go back and correct the errors.

There's a picture of Cloud in his dragon form on my profile page. Go check it out!

More to come in Chapter 2. How will our Dragon deal with its Silver-haired ward?

Reviews inspire writing.


	2. Chapter 2

o.o.o

* * *

The General and The Dragon

**Chapter 2**

By: haruharu

* * *

o.o.o

**A/N: **Hey guys, I've gotta say I'm loving the feedback. Your words inspire writing and make me feel like I've got an audience. To show my appreciation I'll answer some of the questions I've received. Here we go!

**Polaroid Fixation: **Thanks for the feedback. I'm glad my story's summary sucked you in. I do have quite the plot planned out for this fic. Let's just say it's not what most would expect. Also I know my vocabulary can be a bit overwhelming at times. It's really just how I am. I know it might sound strange, but that's how I talk in real life. However I don't want to overwhelm my audience, and certainly not _bore _them, so I'll try to tone down the word choice. Fast and to the point, ya know?

**Glowlight: **Thanks for the congrats! Yeah I've totally noticed the great lack of Dragon-related shenanigans in the FFVII universe too. Not to give anything away, but yes Cloud will have a _human form. _However you won't see it for a while, and it's not within the context you'll expect. I can't really explain it, but this story will be centered on a strong Dragon-verse while following the FFVII cannon. Regardless, it's defiantly new territory for us all, so I really hope I don't totally blow it! Btw, I totally love Genesis/Cloud pairings too. There needs to be more of those.

Thanks for all the great comments. I am aware of the errors in the last chapter. I don't have a Beta yet, and I don't always catch the errors when I review my own work. Hopefully I can get a Beta soon and correct some of it.

**

* * *

I still need Beta…

* * *

**

o.o.o

_"How can one imagine anything more magnificent than…a dragon, the paragon of creation?" [––Bheilorveilthion, Red Wyrm]_

_"Nothing but a bunch of vain, glorified flying reptiles, if you ask me!" [ ––Hatredymaes, androsphinx to Bheilorveilthion]_

o.o.o

_["Triforce formation ––Swarm! Swarm!"]_

Sephiroth was immediately thrown to the ground. Three men in SOLDIER uniform had burst from the brush and flanked him on either side. He was gripped by both arms and dragged up against the third. Throwing his head back to face his assailants head-on, Sephiroth noticed the badge on the chest of his attacker. It was a two-headed snake eating itself with the letters 'S.V.' at the center.

'SOLDIER Black OPS Special Victims Unit.'

Sephiroth knew that symbol well. The _Special Victims Unit_ were the dogs that barked at the heels of Hojo and his goons. Cleaning up Mako fires and chasing after escaped experiments, like he.

"Let me go!" Sephiroth barked out as he struggled against the arms that held him.

"Shut your trap, you piece of shit!"

Sephiroth caught the broad end of a machine gun in his peripherals before a sudden blow to his head knocked him near unconscious.

"Please," He forced out. "Please, don't make me go back," Sephiroth tasted blood. "Please have mercy. Have mercy…"

Sephiroth knew he was dwindling into the comfort of catalepsy, but before he lost all consciousness he would beg for his life like the pig he was. Ten years of enduring death in he face of a needle––at the mercy of Hojo, had demonstrated how wretched and fickle his life really was. Death would be just an _end_ to an already insufferable existence. It would be so easy to just give in to his attackers; beg them to put the barrel between his lips and pull the fucking trigger.

But he couldn't, not after how far he'd come. Not after how he'd stolen Materia from Verdot and set fire to the Mako tanks during Area 01 evaluations. The resulting green inferno blinded his escape as scientists rushed in, eager to save burning prototypes and recorded data. It was his first and last transgression he'd pull on ShinRa.

Sephiroth let out a scream when the SOLDIER's armored hands ripped into the exposed flesh of his back. The Mako burns he'd forgotten were forced to the front of his mind as the SOLDIER continued to beat into his ribcage.

Death was starting to sound pretty good right about now, he thought.

Sephiroth thought he heard the SOLDIERs say something else, but were interrupted by a sudden thunderous earthshaking noise.

Sephiroth looked up in time to see the ground smack him in the face as he realized he'd been dropped. Behind him, he heard the telltale electric twang of the SOLDIERS vocal recorders as it screamed their voices in desperate ramblings.

"Wha-What is that thing!"

"No-No way. No way man!"

"Shut the fuck up and shoot it!"

Sephiroth pushed his face into the mud when he heard the nutshells of artillery fire rush over his frame. Whatever was attacking them was Goddess-sent at this point, regardless of what he didn't believe about that hocus-pocus religion.

Sephiroth dug his fingers in the mud, determined to crawl out from under the line of fire. But whatever dismally remaining courage he had left, was quickly voided along with his bladder, when the thunderous earthshaking noise spoke.

"Such violence for such a small morsel…"

Shiva! Did a volcano open up behind him?

"Such prey is hardly worth the effort."

Sephiroth stilled as he listened to the low timbre that was reminiscent of the deepest leagues of the ocean. It was a commanding tone-violent and forthwith, yet as solemn as the swaying tides.

Sephiroth wanted to cry; he was so scared. But whatever tears he would have shed were wiped dry from his face as a great torrent of fire raged past his frame. He heard more screams, and he tucked his head deeper into the mud.

The next few minutes bled on like hours, and if it weren't for Sephiroth's own self-preservation, he would have stayed in his position–face down in the mud –forever. On shaking limbs, Sephiroth pulled his upper body into a down cobra and took the first few glances around his person. The surrounding area was gone. Just _gone_. Charcoal trunks and limbs of ash were all that was left of the once dense forest.

But where did that fire come fro––!

Sephiroth Looked up, and then saw _it. _

The creature was something of myth; an enigma without words to describe. Burnished red armor, ivory talons, massive size, and those eyes– –the color of molten lava, reminiscent of natural formed Materia.

* * *

o.o.o

The Red wyrm stared down at his inadvertent ward. The boy matched his curious stare with a one of wide-eyed terror, covered in crusted mud and drying ash.

"What are thee, chylde?"

At his question, the boy flinched and doubled back farther into the sludge.

"Be not afraid, chylde," He consoled. "Fear will not help thee, now."

The child smelled of urine and something else. The same scent he had followed earlier, before his instincts overcame his judgment, resulting in this mess. He could smell it now, the unknown essence pulling at his senses. However the boy only smelled faintly of the greater stink. That foul stench lingering through the Lifestream and reeking of bitter stigma. He could not explain it, but he knew it was here. _Here, _in these mountains radiating vile; spreading disease.

The Red lowered his mighty head until his beak and nostrils were level with the child's panic-stricken gaze. Taking a great whiff, the wyrm dilated his senses and inhaled the stench he had chased from the cliffs of his lair.

Beyond the evident veil of urine, the boy smelled of dirt, sweat, and chemicals. Rolling around in the mud had little affect to cover up the odious stench of alcohol. Yet the throbbing smell of disinfectant was daisies compared to the bloated stench of Mako.

Mako, the liquid form life energy condenses into after century's sedentary emulsion on the planets surface. His kindred were familiar with the phenomenon, but lessor races rarely ever came in contact with the substance. So why did this human smell so strongly of it? Exhaling steeps of black smog, The Red decided to ask.

"Your scent, chylde," he rumbled. "Mako –why do you smell of it?"

The silver haired boy cried out from the sound, shielding his face from the disarming inquiry. Silence raised on, the small trembling whimpers of a boy, his only answer.

Annoyed, The Red raised his head, exhaling another cloud of smoke and ash, small flames licking between his fangs.

"I will not ask you again, hairless ape," he thundered. " Answer me or join your assailants in Helheim!"

"T—The labs," the boy stuttered. "It's because of the labs––!"

The Red watched as the child curled deeper into a protective ball, much like how the Cluster Lizards react when threatened. It was most likely a trained-in response to danger.

"Oh Gaia," the boy cried. "What have I done…"

The boy lashed out on the ground, digging his nails into the mud as he wept.

"Gast said that no creature could enslave the immortal soul. Why was I any different..."

The boy wiped his tear-stained eyes and faced the wyrm with defeated misery.

"I guess freedom isn't granted to trash like me, only death."

A pregnant moment passed, the dragon's silence seething with the smoke from its maw. The child was a miserable case, all prepubescent emotion and tear-laced sobs. The Red had dealt with such reactions previously. Many times before their demise, he had seen the fear of death behind his enemy's eyes. Yet the boy, with his pitiful demeanor and naked weakness, had resurfaced a sensitivity he thought died long ago.

When was the last mortal he ever spared? The last _human _he had ever empathized? The Red reflected on his change of heart. The whole of his kindred condemned humanity, waged war against them, and spread death to their kin like the flames to their kingdoms. He was no different, and yet he considered sparing this child, but only if he earned it. The boy was wrong; the soul is enslaving, and death the only freedom from it.

"Thy smell intrigues me," he rumbled.

"Mako, toxins, chemicals…and something more. Something I want to _destroy._"

The boy flinched at his pronounced words, but he continued. Lowering his head again, The Red matched the boy's frightened stare with one of his molten-eyed own.

"Give thou one reason why I shouldn't devour you were thee stand?"

The boy trembled where he stood. His black-soot hands rubbing on the raw flesh of his arms in nervous panic.

"I-I," he began. "I-I…wanted to escape."

The boy choked on his words as he swallowed his snot-soaked tears and gripped the hem of his breeches like an anchor.

"No, I _needed _to escape. For once, before I was dragged back to that hellhole, I wanted to experience the liberties I've only read about."

The Red caught the boy making quick glances away from him, and found himself amused at the child's obvious attempt at escape.

The boy began again but was interrupted as another cloud of smog blinded his vision and clogged his throat. As he choked the dragon spoke again.

"A grand ambition indeed, but not enough to salvage your life."

The boy's eyes widened in terror as the dragon's giant cavity opened up to reveal two sets of jagged thorn-like fangs dripping with green saliva. The creature drew closer; the ever-present smell of sulfur blending with a new more vial stench. The boy gasped in horror when he realized what he smelled. What he thought was saliva was actually the toxic ooze of a corroding acid. The monster salivated acid!

The boy tried begging, but the thick black smoke choked him from uttering. The boy tried to cry, but his shedding tears were evaporated from the deep heat blustering from the dragon's throat. So the boy stood frozen in terror, those strange eyes staring into the vortex of death hallow and defeated.

The Red's own molten orbs caught the vision and were enraptured by their beauty.

"You have beautiful eyes, chylde." He purred as he drew back. "I will have you for my horde."

The boy snapped out of his trance and looked back into the striking pools of lava that were the creature's eyes.

"Wha-What did you say?" The boy spoke in tremors.

"I have decided to add you to my horde."

"Wha-But why?"

"Your eyes are like sapphires, and we dragons are vein covetous things."

The dragon shifted its weight, pulling its right forearm forward intending to pick up the boy, but the boy panicked and fled in the other direction.

"Not so fast, youngling –"

The dragon dropped its forearm on top of the child; it's great hand trapping the boy inside. The talons, acting as bars in a cage. The boy ensnared again, broke down and started crying.

"What do you want," the boy exclaimed.

The Red was amused by the boy's bite in his words. It reminded him of an adolescent wyrmling rebelling against its sire for freedom from the clutch. The dragon decided to toy with the child.

"What do _you _want, chylde?"

"Eat me! He cried. "Eat me and be done with it!"

The dragon looked offended.

"Eat you? Surely you jest," the dragon retorted. "You'd hardly make a snack, and regardless, the flesh of mortals is stringy and coarse."

The boy withdrew into himself, mumbling about words the dragon didn't understand. Words like, "Shinra," or "Solidier," he decidedly filed away to be asked in the future.

"There will be more," the boy mumbled. "Verdot will come and take me back."

The boy grasped the dragon's claws for dear life, forcing his terror-stricken gaze into the violent orbs of The Red.

"Please don't let them take me!" He cried. "I beg of you ––I'll do anything, just take me away from here!

The boy was crying now, large gobs of green slime slithered down his nose with ever sniffle. He was a disgusting sight, and The Red was momentarily reminded of the gross underbelly of humanity. It was so tempting to end the child's life where he stood. Just a simple drop in weight and his claws would crush the tender flesh beneath it. But he needed the child. His world had changed, that much he knew. The boy would be a welcomed informant, whether he knew it or not. He smelt so strongly of the rot that crusted over Gaia's flesh, and the dragon was left wondering how much horror the boy had witnessed.

"Then I will take you away from here." The Red stated.

"Wh-What?" The boy looked confused.

"I said I would have you for my horde. And a dragon protects what is his."

The boy stared on in disbelief, but the dragon continued.

"Come chylde, we shall discuss things on the 'marrow."

Before the kid could respond, the dragon scooped the boy up in its claw and lifted the child above it's open mouth. The boy started screaming, fearing the worse, but the dragon spoke softly and informed the boy to sit inside the space between some of his fangs, and use the leverage to anchor himself as they endeavored the climb up the mountain. The method was no different than a brood dragon carrying her young to the clutch, but the dragon supposed such an attempt would be frightening to lessor creatures. Still, the Great Wyrm held the child in care as he crossed the forest and began his assent up the mountain.

* * *

o.o.o

Sephiroth was beyond terrified. Here he sat, halfway inside a dragon's mouth with his arms grasping the fangs for dear life. He watched as the ground beneath him grew distant, and his feet dangled helplessly. Tears started to peak at the corners of his eyes, and beyond his control he started sobbing softly. He couldn't remember the last time he had been so scared! It was only hours earlier that his chaotic escape from the ShinRa Mansion brought him to the Nibel forest; now he was caught in a dragon's jaw and being dragged to _Odin knows where_.

The forest quickly bled away as they continued to scale higher up the mountain. Sephiroth wondered briefly which mountain pass they were climbing; he had studied some of the surrounding terrain in his geography lessons, and knew that there was at least 3 different mountain ranges that convex at an arc around Nibelheim, the nearby town. Several of the mountains were well over 3000 ft., and the atmosphere uninhabitable. Sephiroth feared that the dragon's destination was at such a height, as he was already feeling the slight strain in his breathing. As the air grew colder, Sephiroth found himself withdrawing deeper into the heat radiating inside the dragon's mouth.

Dragons. Sephiroth still couldn't believe his eyes, and here he was staring down the scaly beak of a _real _dragon. But it wasn't really scales he saw; more like plates of armor carefully cut like diamonds to fit on top of each other. In fact this _dragon _was like nothing he imagined, given that his previous study on dragons were from dated textbooks and most of the bestiary was vague and inaccurate to begin with. Sephiroth made a quick glance down to the flawless shifting of muscles as the dragon's forearm grasped deep into the mountainside and pulled its weight upward. The scales had moved perfectly with flexibility that Sephiroth would never have guessed dragons retained. This dragon was nothing like the sketchy images from his textbooks. This dragon was a living-breathing machine of evolutionary wonder. Sephiroth was so enthralled that he didn't notice when the dragon jumped up a stone outcropping and landed on its flat surface, having reached its destination.

Sephiroth hit the floor as the dragon immediately dropped him on the ground and continued down the tunnel. Dusting himself off, the boy reluctantly followed.

The cavern continued deeper into the mountain, each corridor more dark and dismal than the last. Sephiroth walked silently alongside the great beast, trying his best to catch up to every feline-like step. That was another thing that bothered him; the dragon moved like a cat, and in the dancing light from the dragons jaw illuminated enough for Sephiroth to see the slight glitter of red scales with every passage. He would've never guessed a creature so large could move so silently, but if it weren't for the flickering flames, the dragon would have been completely invisible.

An abrupt stop interrupted the boy from his thoughts. The dragon informed him they were here, wherever _here _was. Sephiroth did a quick check of his surroundings, noting nothing out of the ordinary. He was about to ask, but the dragon dipped down into a lower corridor beneath his feet. Puzzled, Sephiroth slid down the slant until he landed on _something_. Looking down, Sephiroth was shocked at what he found––it was gold, and piles of it!

Sephiroth watched as the dragon walked further into the temple before settling down in a comfortable crouch facing him. It's long tail slinked around its body in yet another feline-like reflex.

"Don't be alarmed, chylde. It is just gold, a simple trimetric metal forged in the earth." He purred indifferently. "It is very lovely though."

Sephiroth stared blankly at the immensity of the temple, barely hearing the dragon's words. Treasures of gold and jewels filled the vast cavern, while gleaming beads of energy glowed like stars across the ceiling. Sephiroth looked closer to discover they were Materia, in their most natural form.

"Materia, it mesmerizes does it not?"

Sephiroth not realizing he had been staring looked back at the dragon to find its own molten orbs deeply studying him.

"You stare as if you've never seen Materia in its purest form?"

Sephiroth blindly nodded his head. "I've read about the natural formations, but never thought to find any."

The dragon admired the twinkling colorful spheres above him. "They are beautiful aren't they? Years of static formation and the lifestream blooms such vibrant marvels."

"Where I come from, Materia is rare and developed artificially by ShinRa. The natural stuff is scarce and worth a fortune in gil."

The dragon ceased its musing and shot glare that shot a river of chills down Sephiroth's spine. If a large-armored-toothy-beaked-jaw could ever frown, Sephiroth was sure it was doing it now.

"In my history, armies of knights slayed one another for pearls of spectral power. Those pearls were Materia; freshly plucked from their earthly realm and used as weapons of death against warring kingdoms."

Sephiroth watched as deep ribbons of smoke seeped from the dragon's nostrils and traveled up the vaulted ceiling. If it weren't for the small holes cut into the overhead cavern, Sephiroth would have suffocated on the creature's own anger.

"Many of my own kind were slain for such cheep metals as gold and silver, then their homes desecrated for Materia fragments."

Sephiroth and the dragon were silent for several moments. The air was on fire, much like Sephiroth's own fear as he watched the red beast consider him worth sparing after all. Finally after what felt like a trip through Hel and back, the dragon spoke.

"Come here, chylde."

Sephiroth, afraid for his life if he refused, reluctantly picked himself up and walked toward the dragon.

"Closer, chylde."

Sephiroth inched a bit closer, still hesitant of putting himself directly under the shadow of the creature, and stopped between the claws of the dragon. Looking up, he was face to beak with the creature's large head. Sephiroth didn't know what to expect but out of all the possible outcomes, he would have never seen this one coming.

The dragon's long forked tongue came slithering out of its mouth and nailed Sephiroth right in the face. Sephiroth could almost taste his disgust –and the dragon's slime–as the creature worked its way around his body, licking off dust, debris, and any wounds he had suffered that day. Sephiroth was so shocked by the gross phenomena of it all, that he didn't think to ask why his flesh wasn't burning off by the dragon's corroding acid. Luckily, the dragon seemed to read his mind.

"My acid gland releases selectively based on my judgment alone," he purred.

Once the deed was done, Sephiroth was left covered in green slime, and disgusted beyond all reason. The dragon looked at him with those mocking eyes and made a short guttural sound that extruded puffs of fire with each breath. If there was ever a laughing dragon, Sephiroth was sure he just heard one.

"And what was _that _for?" He asked while rubbing the slime out of his eyes.

The dragon made that mocking look with it's eyes, and motioned to his body.

"See for thyself, chylde."

Almost on cue Sephiroth felt very ill. Grasping his abdomen, he doubled over and withered in nausea as he prepared to empty his stomach all over the gilded floor. Suddenly, a strong burst of Mako voided his system and was vomited out of his orifice and onto the ground in winded gulps. The dragon said nothing until Sephiroth finished and fell back on his rump, exhausted.

"A dragon's saliva, when free of acid, contains an enzyme that accelerates red blood cell circulation and internal detoxification."

"What?"

The dragon made noise that sounded a lot like a sigh and said, "Your wounds, chylde. I have healed them."

Sephiroth mad a quick search of his body. Sure enough, his body was restored of any abrasions or scars made from the past. Moving the green slime around in his fingers, Sephiroth noticed a slight glow to the ooze.

"Just like a Cure Materia…"

The boy marveled at the discovery, wondering if dragons carried any more physical-supernatural abilities beyond healing spit. It was one of the many wonders he'd experienced that day, and Sephiroth was left questioning the authenticity of the ShinRa bestiary text.

A soft chill whirled across the cave, and Sephiroth suddenly realized how naked he was. He was half naked when he escaped the ShinRa Mansion, and the combined exhaustion of the day had torn and ruined his trousers beyond repair. Abruptly Sephiroth felt very exposed in front of his dragonic counterpart. A sense of embarrassment washed over him with the incoming cold.

"Are you cold?"

The dragon eyed him with gentle inquisition, but Sephiroth was reluctant to admit his nakedness. There was something about explaining his discomfort to the dragon, which made him unconsciously cover himself.

"Over there." The dragon motioned toward a far corner of the temple. "There should be a few chests containing spare garments."

Sephiroth searched out the chests, finding several aged dressers containing vestments of all types. There were tunics, breeches, silk ties, and lace bows. Sephiroth was overwhelmed by the vibrant colors and festive tassels, but picked out a plain white tunic and tan breeches instead. Feeling warm, clean, and clothed for the first time that day, Sephiroth turned around and smiled genially at his new scaly friend.

"Thanks, uh…. Mr. Dragon?"

The dragon inclined its head before raising it toward the holes in the ceiling. "It's getting late. Night will be upon us soon…"

Sephiroth's stomach growled at that moment. Gripping his abdomen, he realized he hadn't eaten since the morning. What luck that he would end up in a golden temple with a dragon that night. Fat chance he would get a meal tonight, especially since Sephiroth had a sinking feeling the dragon's diet was drastically different than his own. However his internal thoughts were distracted when the dragon spoke to him again.

"You will find sanctuary here, chylde. That which belongs to the Great Wyrm, forever will benefit from its protection." A couple of thoughtful puffs of smoke blew from the dragon before it continued. "Feel free to come and go as you please, but remember a dragon's greed runs deep. Beware, and do not forget."

Sephiroth was silent a moment until his stomach protested and he was forced to silent his rebelling abdomen again. At that gesture the dragon stood from it's crouch and dug into a pile of treasure near the entrance. Sephiroth wanted to ask what he was doing, but before he got the chance, the dragon pulled out a large burlap sac and dropped it in front of him.

"Eat. It should be fresh."

Sephiroth opened the sac to find a large quantity of red apples. His stomach jumped at the sight of them. Pulling out a nice ruby, Sephiroth quickly bit into it without thought. Ignoring his company, Sephiroth devoured one apple after another like a ravenous animal.

After finishing the last apple he could possibly stomach, Sephiroth licked his fingers clean and searched out his reptilian friend to thank him. Sitting up, Sephiroth noticed a blanket was thrown over his shoulders while eating. It was a blue silk piece, woven intercity in a astrological starry design. Sephiroth traced the dynamic lines of the sun and moon with his fingers, silently marveling at the stitching.

The cold blew in and Sephiroth bundled closer into the blanket, wrapping it around himself. The dragon, who was watching him from across the room, drew closer and enveloped its body around the boy. Sephiroth watched as the dragon's body stretched out and curled around him like a cat would for its kittens. It's long armored tail whipping out and circling their bodies.

"Wh-What are you—" Sephiroth began, but was interrupted by what he could only describe as _purring _from his dragon. In long smog-inducing breathes, the dragon exhaled a sound that was reminiscent of a contented feline. Silence dragged on and Sephiroth was having a hard time fighting off the sleep that besieged him. The combined warmth of the blanket and the furnace of a dragon behind him lulled the boy into a half sleep, tittering on slumber. Out of the sleep-tempted miasma Sephiroth heard the soothing voice of his dragon offering a story to ease his mind. Sephiroth drowsily agreed.

* * *

o.o.o

_"There was once a throne of power split three ways between eight empires. A Goddess in flesh blessed the land, while a prince in armor tore it asunder…" _

As the red dragon began its tale, he questioned what he was doing. Having only woken up that morning, he searched out an anomaly that still eluded him, dragged two souls into Helheim, and kidnapped this child for reasons beyond his understanding. Gaia help him and his dragon nature! Overconfidence had always been a weakness of their kindred, and the cruel irony had come and bit him in the rear again. Guardian to a sniveling ignorant child, and no matter how he compared the boy to a wyrmling the fact stood that he was not of their kindred. That had deeply sank in the moment he saw the unconcealed greed in the boys eyes when he looked upon the face of Materia. It had been the same look he had recognized in humanity, the same look that ignited war and corrupted innocents. He had known that look. He had known humanity. Intimately known. Once upon a time…

_"The fires are growing! Damn it, Yirrser must have taken Midgar!" _

_"There–! Soar lower, •••••, just beyond the outer wall." _

_"I dare not descend any lower. It would be keener to sedge the fortress after breaking through the first wave of soldiers." _

_"•••••, you old nag! Fine, we'll land on the highland and fight our way through on foot. Don't you let me down, dragon!" _

_"Respect me, human! Or I drop you now!"_

_"Hah! Your threat's as hallow as your heart, beast! 'Catch ya at the bottom, I'm jumpin' now!" _

The dragon flinched and the images faded from his mind. He knew the man's face, but a name didn't come to mind. What were these memories?

_"Yirrser, he's summoned an army of the undead." _

_"Damn that jackal, ••••• does your blaze work against the likes of them?" _

_"My fire has no affect. Their flesh may burn but pain they do not feel." _

The images scattered again and the dragon was left in a daze from the rapid nameless faces whirling through his mind. The man's name, what was his name?

_"...I have lost everything, •••••. Their memory eludes me, stolen from my mind like flickering dreams."_

_"I have been forgotten, •••••. I will disappear from this world, because they have forgotten me."_

_"But don't you forget me, •••••! Not you! Only you…" _

_"Remember me, speak of me often in your stories; from your heart. From our heart…"_

_"Don't you forget me, Cl•••! Do you hear me! I will not lose you too!"  
_

_"Don't forget me Clo••! Remember me!" _

_"Remember me, Clou•!"_

_"CLOUD!"_

The dragon awoke with a start, fire burning strongly in his belly. He tried to calm his emotions enough to swallow the growing Magick, but the roaring sensation was too overbearing to control. He remembered! Cloud, which was his name. And the man...

"Kalz."

The dragon, Cloud, looked down to find a boy sleeping curled up against his hide. The boy's small frame was practically a fly compared to the size of his scales. He'd forgotten how fragile humanity was, and carefully sat up and away from the child's unwanted proximity.

Cloud remembered now. The temple, the treasure, the mountain––all belonged to him. His horde. His territory. But then why did he wake here, alone? What of the Yirsser, and _The Hidden_? What about the battle of Midgar, what of the 3rd Arc? He couldn't remember! Faint flecks of images shattered at the pit of his psyche like broken glass, difficult to piece together and impossible to make out.

Growling to himself, the dragon barged from the main corridor and into an adjoining cave. He had to know. At the very least a clue had to have been left behind. That man was the scourge of humanity; he would have left a message. A symbol, hidden away and only meant for Cloud's eyes, he had to!

Clawing through corridor after corridor, Cloud dug deeper into the mountainside. Into caves and crevices he'd long forgotten about. And it was there, deep within the core of the mountain that Cloud found the false wall that led to his hidden grotto of treasures. Possessions he'd collected over centuries of longevity, and it was here among his most precious and desirous items, that he found his _symbol_.

Alone and almost statured above the rest of the treasures, stood a sword. The handle was grimy and the hilt was scratched up beyond recognition; hardly a pale example of what Cloud remembered. Its blade was a dull grey, almost black and covered with rust stains. At one time it might have been sinister steel with the majesty and presence that rivaled its wielder. Now it was just another grave marker for the dead. Kalz was dead. The warrior had left Cloud to die, and left his sword to deliver the message. The very sword that drove him through armies of the damned, through love and betrayal, and deep into hel. Kalz was right. He had disappeared from history. And likewise, he had been forgotten. Cloud had forgotten him, Gaia––mother earth and all her children had forgotten him. And now Cloud was left with a grubby sword and an eternity to live out, alone.

_"Don't forget me, Cloud."_

"I remember you, Kalz."

_"Not you. Don't you forget me too." _

"I remember you––!"

_"Cloud, please! When no one else can." _

"I REMEMBER YOU KALZ!"

Cloud let out a deep roar to match the anguish of his soul. The loud raging sound was crude and guttural, and reminiscent of a wounded animal crying out before its fall. The sound echoed off the many hallow caverns and rose to a crescendo of misery throughout the mountain range, shaking the night, and waking creatures from nocturnal slumber. Not far from the mouth of the cavern, a boy lied wide-awake gripping the hem of his blanket while listening to the pitiful sound as it carried on into the dusk.

o.o.o

* * *

A/N: Another chapter down, and many more yet to be written. Keep on reviewing, it makes my dismal writing ability feel somewhat justified in this cruel world. Seriously though, I've been having a tough time writing this fic. My other fics just seem to bleed off the page, but not this one. Ironic, huh? So yeah, I'd really benefit from a Beta. Just someone who could pic out errors and help the whole thing flow more smoothly.

Anyway, chapters will be updated as a write them. I'm juggling several other fics so don't expect immediate updates, but I'll try to update as often as I can.


End file.
